


The Second First Date

by lucycamui



Series: BMSCV-Verse [2]
Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Christmas Date, Comedy, Explicit Sexual Content, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Romance, Skater!Yuuri, Skating, alternative universe, pornstar!Victor
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-27
Updated: 2019-01-27
Packaged: 2019-10-17 15:29:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,175
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17563112
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lucycamui/pseuds/lucycamui
Summary: Between the Grand Prix Finals and Nationals, Yuuri has one chance at a make-up date with Victor. He's determined to win Victor over and make as good of a connection of theirsecondfirst date as on theirfirstfirst date... That is, without the car horn honking and bad attempt at sex.





	The Second First Date

**Author's Note:**

> For getawaymachine.

“Oh god, you’re even worse this time.”

Yuuri had dumped out his entire wardrobe, including his skating costumes. He had tried on ten full outfits thus far, including his free skate turtleneck and glittering jacket from the previous season after Phichit had recommended it. That ended in Phichit rolling with laughter as Yuuri glared at him, since Yuuri had actually taken the suggestion seriously when it had been intended as a joke.

He simply did not know what to do. The logical part of his brain told him not to worry about it. For one thing, Victor would not care, and for another, if all went well, Yuuri hoped that any and all clothes would end up on the bedroom floor anyway. The emotional, anxious part of his brain told him that if he messed up this one chance he had—whether by wearing the wrong pair of jeans or anything else—that it would all be over. Victor had agreed to date him, to be his boyfriend, but that did not mean Yuuri was in the clear. He still had a lot of making up to do if he wanted to feel good about himself again, if he wanted to gain Victor’s trust again. Yuuri had never really been a good boyfriend to anyone. Now, he wanted to be the best boyfriend he could possibly be. The first step would be making a good impression going into their second first official date.

“Why don’t you just wear the gold medal?”

“I am not going to wear the gold medal.”

“You didn’t let me finish.”

“Okay, finish.”

“Why don’t you wear just the gold medal?” Phichit wiggled his eyebrows suggestively. “And nothing else?”

Yuuri tried to imagine how that might go. He pictured parking in a guest spot outside of Victor’s apartment building, doing a quick but cautious scan before bolting across the lot, his most private of parts flapping in the wind. By his luck, it would not be Victor who opened the door first, but the elderly lady who lived across the hall. If Yuuri did not give her a heart attack with the sight of his ass, he might give one to himself. Then again, she had lived with a gay pornstar for a next-door neighbor for a few years now, so maybe she would get out of the interaction perfectly fine while Yuuri was wheeled out on a gurney. Yeah, that was not happening. 

“No,” Yuuri deadpanned. He should just choose. Just throw it all to hell and choose. Slacks and the red sweater. No. Jeans and a hoodie. No. Jeans and the red sweater. No. Booty shorts and the turtleneck. What a statement. He would freeze but what a statement. 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Phichit said. He was lying on Yuuri’s bed, back against propped-up pillows, one leg kicked over the other. He was enjoying this, Yuuri knew that he was. He had been grinning like a shark for the past few days, ever since Yuuri had gotten home after his reunion with Victor. It was not like he really had to ask how it went, since Yuuri had spent the night, but the small smile and blush that Yuuri had responded with had made him nearly unbearable. Yuuri had gotten home after practice yesterday to find a wedding magazine on their kitchen table, Phichit chuckling as if it were the best joke ever. Yuuri had shredded the pages to make bedding for the hamsters. 

“Ask him what I should wear?” Yuuri said, gaze shifting back and forth from his closet to everything strewn out over the foot of the bed. 

“Yeah. If you want to wear something he thinks will look good, the best way to guarantee that is to ask,” Phichit reasoned, laying down his phone. “Besides, that way you’ll be suitably dressed for whatever his expectations are.”

Right. Phichit had a point. Phichit usually did have a point, but Yuuri was less equipped with accepting such points. “Give me my phone.”

It was handed over but stayed in Yuuri’s hands for a minute, then two, his thumbs not moving to type anything into the far-too-cheery message box. The problem was that Yuuri had not told Victor his plan for the date, merely that they were going to spend an evening out in the city. Yuuri had wanted something quiet and calm, to give them a chance to readjust. He was worried that too much or too little would mean a bad date and that a bad date would mean Victor choosing to end it right then and there. 

Yuuri threw his phone back onto the bed, grabbed the jeans and the red sweater and forced himself into both before he could change his mind. He wrenched the standing mirror around so that he would be unable to catch a glimpse of himself and thus change his mind. “Good?” he asked Phichit, pulse ticking nervously in his ears. 

Phichit held two thumbs up. “What about the glasses?”

Yuuri had thought about that too. Yuuri’s previous boyfriend had told him that his glasses made him look too young and naive. But Yuuri figured he could discount anything and everything that douchebag had ever said. Victor, on the other hand, had Yuuri keep his glasses on during one of their blowjob lessons. Yuuri had to admit, when Victor had come across his face and splattered the lenses, he had been hoping Victor would find the sight hot. If the swear that had left Victor’s lips when he’d gazed down at Yuuri were to be any indication, then he indeed had found it hot. “The glasses stay on.”

“Cool,” Phichit said, flipping himself off Yuuri’s bed. “Now get out.”

Yuuri was barely able to grab his wallet and phone before Phichit literally shoved him out the front door. Phichit was a good roommate, knowing the cruelty of his actions was exactly what Yuuri needed. Otherwise, he might panic and cancel the date and entire relationship in one go. Phichit slammed the door behind Yuuri, then opened it to throw Yuuri’s coat into his arms, and slammed it again. 

Yuuri chuckled, turning to knock softly. “Car keys?”

The door cracked open no more than an inch, keys tossed out. Yuuri plucked them up off the ground. If he left now, he would be early. That was fine, because he had an idea. It was probably the one and only proper date he would have an opportunity for before he had to leave for Nationals. When Yuuri had been debating date ideas, Phichit had suggested skating at the outdoor rink in Martius Park but Yuuri thought Victor might be sick of skating. 

Instead of Victor’s apartment, Yuuri drove to the flower shop a few blocks away. He spent several minutes drifting between the bouquets on display, debating what type of flowers seemed most appropriate for Victor, then whether Victor was even a flower type of person. Yuuri had already broadcast his confession to the world, so a bouquet to follow it up seemed logical. In addition to messages of congratulations, Yuuri had received texts from his sister wondering what kind of secret love tryst he had involved himself in in the States. If she only knew. 

The shop owner took pity on his obvious indecision, making a remark about how, in moments of doubt, roses were always the safe bet. Yuuri bought two dozen of the deepest red. 

Less than twenty minutes later, Yuuri was standing in front of Victor’s apartment, trying a breathing technique to calm his rapid pulse. Worries penetrated his thoughts. All the ways it could go wrong, all the ways Yuuri could mess this up. Perhaps between when they had agreed on the date and now, Victor had changed his mind. His texts had still arrived on Yuuri’s phone, but Yuuri felt like there was a distinct shortage of heart-mouthed emojis. He also felt like replies to his texts came less quickly, though that may have been due to Victor being busy getting back into his research. He probably had a lot to read and review in his thesis, large sections to consider updating now that he was more experienced in his topic of choice. 

If Yuuri had been meeting anyone else, he would have turned away. His nerves would have gotten the better of him. But that was the thing about Victor. He made Yuuri want to overcome all those worries. Amongst all those buzzing concerns, those nagging thoughts, was one that stood out. The thought that when Victor answered the door and saw Yuuri, his face might light up with that gorgeous smile. Like it had on the previous times when Yuuri had gone there, for their lessons. Yuuri wasn’t a “student” anymore, though; he had received a promotion. 

Huffing, Yuuri jammed his finger against the doorbell button. 

Makkachin’s bark came instantly and Yuuri’s vibrating nerves calmed as easily as that. It was familiar. He could already feel the roughness of her paws against his chest and her tongue lapping at his chin. A few moments later Yuuri heard the fall of footsteps and the latch of the lock. The door opened. Yuuri’s heart stumbled and fell off the treadmill it had been sprinting on. 

Maybe at some point in their hopefully distant future together, Yuuri would grow used to Victor’s handsome good looks. But it would not be any time soon. Those sharp blue eyes, those cheekbones, that sculpted jaw. The slope of his nose and the curve of his lips—there wasn’t a part of Victor that Yuuri did not find perfect. Then that smile appeared, brilliant and beautiful, and Yuuri’s heart rolled to the edge of a cliff and threw itself off. 

“Are those for me?” Victor asked, glancing at the bouquet Yuuri held down at his side. 

“Oh,” Yuuri breathed out, snapping the bouquet up to his chest. “No, ummmm, they’re for Makkachin.”

Victor’s laugh was like the first spark of candlelight in a blackout. “Should I put them in a vase for her?”

“Yeah, that’d be a good idea,” Yuuri answered, handing the bouquet to Victor. Yuuri had flowers thrown at him at his competitions. He had not counted how many had come down after his record-breaking free skate in Barcelona, plushies and flowers creating a carpet on the ice. They were such a regular part of skating that sometimes he forgot all about it. Yet if Victor had thrown flowers for him, Yuuri would have skated straight for them. 

Victor took the flowers to the kitchen and Yuuri stepped into the apartment, hanging back by the door. He held out his fingers to Makkachin, allowing her to sniff them. He rubbed at her ears, muttering greetings. Her tail wagged. It seemed that the order Victor had given her to be mad at him had worn off or been retracted. 

“Yuuri.” Victor called and Yuuri leaned forward, catching glimpse of Victor pouring water into a vase. “Come here.”

Yuuri shuffled in, watching Victor trim the bottoms off the stems of the roses before placing them in the vase. He still hung back, leaving room between them. He did not want to push. From the beginning, him and Victor had come together naturally. The chemistry had been there and they had simply clicked without effort and without hesitation. 

Victor spread out the flowers and carried the vase to the dining table, setting it in the center. “Thank you… for not bringing her chocolate.”

A smile broke on Yuuri’s lips as well and he nodded. When Victor grew close, Yuuri stayed in place, leaning up when Victor dipped down. Victor’s fingers hooked under the side of his jaw, thumb stroking over Yuuri’s cheek. Always gentle, even when Yuuri felt like he did not deserve it. He tilted his face into the touch. 

“Aren’t you going to give me a hello kiss?” Victor asked. 

Yuuri had wanted to, of course he had. It was funny that he was more nervous about a date than he had been when he had first arrived at Victor’s for a sex class. Then, he had had an expectation of how it would go, a vision in mind. He had come with the intent to be fucked and fucked good by a pornstar. Except that plan had rapidly fallen apart. Following that pattern, this date would also be destined to fall apart, only Yuuri did not know what the trigger might be. Probably not giving Victor his hello kiss. Yuuri grabbed him by the collar and crashed their mouths together. He heard the first note of a laugh before the rest was muffled by his lips. 

The kiss was simple, without heat but with the sweetness of comfort. The feeling of coming home after a long absence. Yuuri softened, his grip loosening, the tension within him ebbing away. Victor’s lips were plush and they curled when Yuuri did not back away, forming a smile within their kiss. Yuuri smiled too, sighing with a fraction of relief when Victor dropped his forehead against Yuuri’s. 

“Nervous?”

“Yeah,” Yuuri admitted, spreading his fingers over Victor’s shirt. “If you only knew how much.”

“Good. You should be.”

Yuuri scoffed out a laugh, burying his face into Victor’s chest. “That’s not helping.”

“I mean it. You’d better be taking me on the date of a lifetime. I expect to be swept off my feet. Hopefully, literally at some point in the evening.” Victor’s voice purred into the top of Yuuri’s hair. 

“So no pressure, right?” Yuuri muttered. 

“None at all.”

Glancing up, Yuuri pressed his lips to Victor’s once more and took a step back. “Want to go then?” 

“Of course.” 

Yuuri had a working theory that Victor was some sort of miracle drug for anxiety. At least for him. If that were true, it meant Yuuri should stay by his side for as long as he possibly could. Ideally, forever. He would not mind forever. 

Outside, Yuuri got in front of Victor and held the car door open for him, intent on playing the part of a gentleman. He had a doctoral candidate to sweep off his feet, after all. Yuuri backed out of the parking spot slowly, not wanting to take any unnecessary risks. He kept the radio switched off, concentrating on the road ahead. 

“Where are we going?”

“Phichit said I should take you skating,” Yuuri replied. “But I thought maybe you would have had enough of that.”

“I’ve only gone the once with you.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been watching my competitions. It’s the same programs every time. Even I get tired of it.”

“I could never get tired of seeing how beautiful you are on the ice.”

Cheater. Yuuri was supposed to be the one who was charming on this date. It was not fair that Victor pulled off lines like that so easily, while Yuuri would not even be able to think of anything so smooth without stumbling over it. “When I was in Barcelona, I went by this Christmas market they had. I kept thinking about how I wanted to walk through it with you.” 

“If you want to fly us off to Barcelona, I’ll need to go back to grab my passport.”

Yuuri smiled. “Next time then. I figured we’d be okay to go somewhere a little closer to home.” Yuuri drove them downtown, found a lot to park in, and ran around to open the door for Victor again. It earned him an amused chuckle and that was perfectly fine. He was going to try his best to have their evening go well. Yuuri did intend to skip over the ice rink, but the pop-up Christmas market in Cadillac Square had seemed suitable for a romantic date. 

The walkway at the center of the street was populated with transparent igloo-like huts. Fairy lights were strung up inside them, illuminating them from the inside out and making them glow with warmth. Yuuri took Victor’s hand, lacing their fingers as he led. One of the huts displayed canvases and prints by a local artist, and another sold handmade Christmas wreaths that still smelled like fresh evergreens. The third one down had an assortment of bags, jewelry, and neatly folded scarves. Victor released Yuuri’s hand to pick one up and drape it around Yuuri’s shoulders, tucking it around his neck. The fabric was a warm fleece, fluffy against Yuuri’s skin. He made to take it off but Victor stopped him, carefully tearing off the price tag instead in order to take it to the register. Yuuri kept the scarf on and Victor slipped his hand back into Yuuri’s as soon as they stepped back outside. 

They moved onto the next hut, which sold hand-painted European-style bonbons. Yuuri bought a couple for them and fed Victor the chocolate off his fingers, after checking around them to make sure Makkachin had not secretly followed. Victor laughed again and Yuuri settled further into the ease of his company. While it was warm inside the pop-up shops, in the open air the December night was freezing. At the end of the block, they could see a massive Norwegian Spruce all wrapped up in multicolored lights. Victor tugged him toward it and Yuuri went without protest.

They stood at the edge of the ice rink there, fogging up the air with their exhales. 

“You sure you don’t want to skate?” Victor teased, nudging Yuuri. 

“Do you want to wobble around next to a gold medalist?” Yuuri countered, squeezing Victor’s hand. “’Cause I can jump salt-cows while you’re bruising your butt falling down on the ice.”

“It’s pronounced salchow.” 

Yuuri bit into his lower lip, but it did not stop his smile from spreading. “Fine, come on. I can’t jump well in rental skates anyway.”

Within minutes, they were inside the rink, the laces of the rental skates tugged tightly. Yuuri held both of Victor’s hands, gliding backwards to keep them face to face as he guided Victor in a leisurely loop. Victor gained his ice legs more quickly that time, soon able to keep up with Yuuri. Except the moment Yuuri had the thought of, “typical, just like a Russian,” Victor caught his toepick on a gash and tumbled, falling into Yuuri’s arms. Perfect. 

Yuuri did not simply catch him, he swept Victor into his arms, lifting him into a bridal carry. He did, after all, want to surpass all of Victor’s expectations. 

Victor blinked, his arms around Yuuri’s neck, and realization dawned across his fair features. His heart-shaped smile shone brighter than the twinkling lights decorating the square and he began to laugh, his head thrown back and the sound joyous like the jingling of Christmas bells. “You actually…”

As if Yuuri was going to pass up the opportunity. “For you, anything.”

“Then do a salt-cow with me!” Victor batted his eyelashes and Yuuri was struck by just how much trouble he was in. Smart, handsome, charming… Add adorable and skilled with a pout onto that and Yuuri had done himself in for life. 

“Salchow,” Yuuri corrected back, resisting the very stupid urge to do as requested. 

“Yes. I want to know what it’s like to jump like an Olympian.”

“We’ll die.”

“At least we’ll die happy.” 

The sparkle in Victor’s eyes was difficult to resist. Yuuri did not think he could actually jump with Victor in his arms. A quad actually would be suicide. So would a double. A single would be risking his ankles. If Yuuri survived, Celestino would materialize and kill him. “Hang on.”

Victor’s eyes went wide. “Really?”

“Yeah, really.” 

Victor locked his arms around Yuuri’s neck, fingers gripping into the back of his coat. Yuuri hitched Victor into a more secure position, tightening his hold around him. He skated forward, picking up speed, swinging a leg back for momentum. He did not do a full jump, staying low, keeping his hold on Victor as he did half a rotation. They still came down heavy but Yuuri kept them upright, a laugh leaping from him at the surprising success. 

“Wow,” Victor’s exhale was a breathy prayer. 

“Hey!” A shout came from the side of the rink, the employee who had rented them skates standing with arms crossed over her chest, expression beyond disapproving. “Nuh-uh, no, I don’t think so. Get off the ice, both of you!” 

Yuuri dropped Victor, setting him down on his own feet. They hurried to exit, apologizing as they returned the skates and grabbed their shoes. They could not help giggling the entire way through, earning them more critical glares. 

“I can’t believe,” Victor breathed, grasping Yuuri’s hand as they stumbled away from the judging staff, “I got Yuuri Katsuki, reigning Grand Prix champion, kicked off an ice rink.”

“I think I got myself kicked off an ice rink,” Yuuri said, pulling Victor back toward the market. He did not want to think about what would happen if someone had been filming the idiots jumping together. 

“Still. What a dream.”

Yuuri was not sure what kind of dream that could possibly be, but at least Victor’s dreams contained Yuuri. They found their way to the center of the pop-up market, where instead of the huts was a large, greenhouse-like structure decorated like a lodge. In addition to strung Christmas lights, chandeliers made of tree branches hung from the ceiling. Sofas and armchairs were strewn around, adorned with extra cushions and blankets. Bookshelves were loaded with novels, picture books, and board games. At the far end was a bar. Yuuri went for drinks while Victor found them a cozy spot to sit, claiming a space in front of an electric fireplace. 

Mulled wine and cocktails were on offer, but Yuuri chose to be sensible. He brought back hot chocolate for them to share, sitting down beside Victor. Their hips and shoulders met and Victor leaned into Yuuri’s side, snuggling in to chase away the chill that had settled during their short sprint at the rink. Yuuri placed the paper cup in Victor’s hands and waited for him to take the first sip, before swooping in to kiss the taste of chocolate from his lips. Victor nearly spilled the contents into their laps when he turned into Yuuri in response, fingers delving into Yuuri’s hair as he claimed a deepened continuation of the kiss.

If they were not sharing the lounge with other couples and families, Yuuri might have let a moan tumble off his lips. Instead, he sought out the heat of Victor’s tongue, head tipped to the side and mouth moving with a restrained hunger. It lasted no more than a second and then Victor pulled away, though only just. They shared the air between them, the oxygen thin as if they were striding a mountain peak. The corners of Victor’s lips curled upwards. 

Yuuri grabbed his hand and yanked him out of the lounge, their footfalls rapid as they all but sprinted back to Yuuri’s car. That time, it was Yuuri who pinned Victor against the door of his car, claiming the satisfied moan Victor let free with his mouth. It should not have been a surprise, to either of them. Past events had proven their self-control never held up when they were together. Yuuri bruised Victor’s mouth and drank his quiet sighs, bodies pressed as close as their combined layers of clothing would permit. 

“Ahhh, Yuuri…”

Even without explicit explanation, Yuuri had a good guess at what Victor meant with the protesting tone in his voice. Yuuri agreed. They had messed up the sex in the car thing once before; they did not need to do it again. Yuuri unlocked the doors but chased the kiss even as Victor dropped into the passenger seat, forcing himself away. He wondered if there were any state laws against driving while horny. If anything, he was more focused than usual, especially when Victor’s hand dropped into his lap at a stoplight, palming his crotch. His knuckles went white on the wheel. 

The drive back to Victor’s apartment went by too quickly yet lasted too long. Yuuri nearly clipped the pillar of the roofing sheet turning into the guest parking spot outside Victor’s apartment, distracted by the wetness of Victor’s mouth under the lobe of his ear and the firm pressure of Victor’s hand over his cock. 

Yuuri was already stripping off Victor’s jacket when they got to the front door, Victor pulling the new scarf off Yuuri as soon as he had turned his key in the lock. Makkachin was on the couch. She lifted her head and dropped it back down, huffing out a whine as she was ignored. Yuuri would give her an entire box of treats to make up for it later, after he had treated himself. 

Victor’s bed was a place Yuuri dearly wanted to spend more time in. The sheets were cool, the mattress firm, the pillows soft, the blanket plush, and the man who descended onto it with Yuuri perfect. Victor’s hands guided Yuuri down, his mouth tracing Yuuri’s lips and the line of his jaw. 

Yuuri could have laughed, thinking back to how scared and how eager he had been in Victor’s bed the first time he had found himself in it. He had been trembling with anticipation then and he trembled with it now, though the reasons were different. Yuuri gripped into the silk of Victor’s hair, meeting his kisses. 

The room was cold, raising goosebumps on Yuuri’s skin as it was exposed. Their clothes dropped to the floor, Victor tugged the blanket out from under them and draped it over their bodies. He slotted himself against Yuuri, thigh sliding between Yuuri’s legs, arm looping under Yuuri’s upper back. 

Yuuri did not wish to let go, to separate, so he clung on. He stole kiss after kiss, taste after taste of Victor’s lips and his tongue. He mapped the ridges of Victor’s spine with his hands, gasping when Victor cupped between his legs. While Yuuri could not be sure of Victor’s dreams, he knew his own. For so long, they had revolved around the goal of winning gold and the desire of finally having good sex. Through Victor, he had realized both and found the added bonus of love. He was not going to let any of those go without a fight. 

The lubricant Victor removed from the bedside drawer was warm when it hit Yuuri’s skin. Yuuri spread his legs for Victor, his gaze dropping to watch as Victor carefully pushed his fingers inside. Yuuri had become accustomed to the stretch, relaxed as he invited them in. He knew now how good it could be when done right and there was no one better for it than Victor. 

A trail of open-mouthed kisses littered the curve of Yuuri’s shoulder and the line of his neck, setting his nerves alight. He pleaded, rolling his hips onto Victor’s persistent fingers, seeking more. When the question came if he was sure, really sure, Yuuri smiled and promised that he was. Victor heeded and gave him more, widening three fingers inside Yuuri until he was stretched out and ready. 

Yuuri had the blessing of Victor all around him. He had Victor’s arm around his back, Victor’s legs nudging his open, Victor’s lips heating his skin, Victor’s hair brushing his face, Victor’s condom-clad cock pushing inside him. For half a moment, Yuuri tensed and Victor stopped, kissing his cheek and the bridge of his nose, whispering a reminder to breathe. Yuuri did and groaned when Victor filled him.

“Move,” Yuuri begged. 

Victor moved, his thrusts starting languidly, like they had all the time in the world. He rose up, removing his arm from under Yuuri’s back. Instead he leaned on his elbows and used both hands to brush back Yuuri’s hair, smiling at him. A lull passed between them, Yuuri gazing back. Victor’s hair was ruffled, his cheeks flushed, his irises dark. His lips were red from the strength of their kisses, the patch of skin above the crook of his neck dark where Yuuri had sucked a mark. Yuuri liked it, seeing the effect he had on Victor. He could read the look Victor was giving him, as his own would be one and the same. Victor liked seeing his effect too. 

Hands planted on Victor’s chest, Yuuri walked his fingers up and over his shoulders, pulling Victor down into an embrace. He wove his grip into silver again, smiling back. “You’re inside me, Victor. Make me feel it.”

Yuuri obviously did not need lessons on provocation, because those words caused Victor to snap his hips, which caused Yuuri to choke on a moan. He welcomed Victor in, hooking his legs around his lower back, arching in encouragement. With Victor it was always good. Yuuri forgot to worry, to stress. He simply melted, chasing kisses and the spark of Victor inside him. Each drive of Victor’s hips sent a wave rolling through him, washing Yuuri on a private beach of bliss. He could spend a lifetime vacationing there, awash in pleasure. 

Victor hitched him closer, raising Yuuri’s hips off the mattress and guiding his legs up. His hands pushed on the underside of Yuuri’s thighs, folding him nearly in half. When Victor sunk his cock into Yuuri that time, Yuuri’s jaw went slack, breath catching in his throat. 

“Good?” Victor rasped.

Yuuri could not find the words, senses lost to the head of Victor’s cock against his prostate. He grasped at Victor’s biceps, nails leaving crescent marks as he barely managed a nod. “Ahhh—again.”

Victor plunged in again and again. Yuuri collapsed into the pillows at his back, mewling, too overwhelmed to manage much more. He clenched around Victor, his lashes fluttering. He was flooded, with emotion, with rapture. 

Pursuing another kiss, Yuuri fell apart the second Victor’s fingers wound around his cock and stroked. He spilled between them, moaning on Victor’s tongue. Yuuri clung on, ready to cry from happiness as he was fucked through his orgasm just like he’d wanted to be before meeting Victor, his thighs and body spasming from overstimulation. Tightening his embrace, Yuuri pleaded for Victor to cum inside him, smiling when Victor stuttered. 

The cooldown was just as good, Victor’s weight above him a comfort. Yuuri rolled Victor to lie at his side, nuzzling in and collecting kisses. “Were you swept off your feet?”

Victor laughed, nodding. He rubbed the sole of his foot over Yuuri’s ankle under the sheets. “I believe so, quite literally.”

“I leave for Nationals in a week and a half,” Yuuri muttered, finding Victor’s hands and lacing their fingers together. “But can I take you out again before then?” 

“I’d like that very much, zolotse.” 

Yuuri had looked up that word. Victor had been calling Yuuri his gold, even before he had earned his medal. Yuuri touched a kiss to Victor’s palm and the base of his fingers. Perhaps, if things worked out for them, in the not-so-distant future Yuuri could bring Victor a different kind of gold.


End file.
